The Gryffindor Way
by lovinMaya
Summary: Some short and sweet shots on the relationship between Fred and Angelina, during Hogwarts, and later on how George comes into the picture post-DH. Please read and review!
1. The Yule Ball

**A/N:** I was trying to write a George/Angelina story that takes place right after the battle and sort of goes into a little bit of how they might have ended up together and how much of a role Fred and his death played in their relationship. But I couldn't get through it - I just didn't know how to write their characters correctly. I realized that part of that was because I didn't really know Fred's and Angelina's relationship to begin with. So I decided to write this snippet of it so I could wrap my head around part of what they had and part of their characters together. Enjoy!

* * *

**The Gryffindor Way**

Fred had been looking forward to the Yule Ball all week, and though he'd never tell anyone this, it was because of the girl he'd asked to be his date.

He had planned and tried and failed to ask her for a few weeks before he actually did, but the Gyffindor in him faltered every time he laid eyes on her gorgeous face. Finally, when Ron had pointed out to him the painful truth that he had no date, the brilliant idea had popped into his mind. Mustering all the confidence he possibly could, Fred had turned, looked squarely into the beautiful face that was giving him such a hard time, and called out the words that secured him the date he most wanted.

And tonight, he'd be dancing with her, chatting with her, ogling at her shamelessly, and (if he could summon the guts) he'd ask her to be his girlfriend. While he dressed for the night, Fred ran various scenarios through his head.

"_Angelina?" he said._

"_Yeah?"_

"_There's something I really wanted to tell you." His voice grew soft as he looked into her brown eyes._

"_What is it, Fred?"_

"_It-it's just, you're really special, Angelina. Really special," he admitted, taking her hand. _

_She looked up at him, her eyes twinkling as a smile played on her lips. "So are you."_

"_No, you're-you're really something, Ange." He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a nervous laugh. "I like you a lot."_

_Her eyes grew tender. "You do?"_

"_I like you more than you know," he confessed. "Angelina, will you be my girlfriend?"_

No. That was stupid.

Taking deep breaths to steady himself, Fred scrutinized his reflection in the mirror, determined to correct any flaws before the ball. He had donned light brown dress robes that shined almost gold in the light, matched with a pale gold tie around his neck. Underneath the robes, his shirt was a plain white one, and fell lazily un-tucked around chocolate brown trousers. After his mother had sent them all hideously old-fashioned dress robes for the occasion, Fred had written desperately to his older brother Bill for help. Immediately, and to Fred's immense gratitude, Bill had sent him back these very clothes. Any other time, he wouldn't have cared less, and would have had a marvelous time pranking the hell out of the students on the dance floor in any old robes, but this time was different. This time, he had a blissfully perfect girl on his arm, and he had to at least look as though he deserved her.

George approached the nervous wreck he called his brother in front of the mirror and clapped him on the back, an amused smirk on his face. Having altered the second-hand dress robes as much as he could with magic, George now wore plain, dark green robes with nearly invisible threads coming out of the frayed hems. He had chosen a lemon yellow bow tie and trousers, but had (thankfully) kept his shirt a simple white.

"So that's why you've been in an excellent mood this whole week," George commented.

"What?" said Fred distractedly, pulling a comb through his hair. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," his brother said knowingly. "Angelina."

"What about her?" Fred attempted to keep his cool, but when he wouldn't meet his brother's eye, George knew he had been right.

"You're mad about her!" he exclaimed. "You're really, really mad about her!"

"I am _not_," he insisted. It wasn't that he didn't want people to know how he felt about Angelina Johnson, he simply didn't want _George_ to know about it, because he would never hear the end of the jokes if his brother were to discover that he was, rather than a mischievous prankster, a soft loverboy.

"Don't even bother trying to hide it. It is way too late for that, mate," said George, chuckling, as he strolled confidently out of the dormitory, whistling as he went.

Fred groaned. There was no way he'd be able to ask Angelina out now. George had probably already run to tell her what Fred had stupidly let him find out. Somehow, almost in a ghost-like manner, Fred willed himself to exit the dormitory after his brother.

"_Angelina, I really, really have to tell you something," he said, grabbing her hands and pulling them to his chest. They were sitting at a table away from the dance floor so that they could hear each other._

"_What is it?"_

"_I really like you, Angelina."_

"_You-you do?" Her face showed her surprise, but it didn't look displeased._

"_Yes. Merlin, yes. I like everything about you." Fred gripped her hands tighter. "I want—you. I want you to be my girlfriend."_

No, that wasn't right either.

It wasn't a surprise that the common room was packed with students, chattering excitedly about the ball.

"I wonder what the decorations will be like."

"Did you _see_ Harry Potter? He looks like a dish!"

"_I_ much prefer George Weasley over there. I can't wait to see what he and Fred are gonna do tonight."

"Is this dress okay? Do I look fat?"

Swallowing, Fred made his way over to Ron and Harry and somehow plastered on his signature smile. "All right, there?"

Harry nodded vaguely, checking his watch. Ron looked positively miserable, eyeing Fred's robes with obvious jealousy.

"Where did you get those?" he said.

"I have friends in high places, mate," he replied, clapping his brother on the shoulder and looking around the room. He caught his breath when his eyes fell on a sight he had been unprepared for; Angelina was striding stunningly down the stairs from the girls' dormitory with her friends.

As if time had slowed down, Fred slowly took in the glorious image. She was wearing a strapless, deep blue dress that hugged her slim, but curvy body and cut off jaggedly past her knees, with a pale gold shawl and matching heeled shoes. Subconsciously, his hand flew to his tie to straighten it while he dimly acknowledged that it matched the shawl that accented her toned arms. Thoughts dashed like marathon runners through his head, and he didn't notice that Angelina was bidding her friends good-bye until she looked over at him and suddenly, his mind was blank.

"_Are you having fun tonight, Angelina?" Fred shouted in her ear; the music on the dance floor was almost deafening._

"_So much fun, Fred. Thanks!" she shouted back, continuing to sway her hips to the rhythm._

"_Hey, could we go out to garden?"_

"_Sure!" She shrugged, and led him out into the night. _

_They settled on a bench by a rosebush, sitting close to each other to keep from becoming too cold. Hesitantly, Fred wrapped his arm around her shoulder. _

"_You okay?" he asked, concerned._

_Smiling, Angelina looked up at him and murmured, "Of course I am. You're here with me, aren't you?"_

_With a breathless laugh, Fred said, "I've been meaning to tell you something."_

"_And what's that?" _

_Taking her hand with his free one, he looked deep into her eyes, "I-I think you're one of the most amazing people in-in the world, Angelina."_

_Shyly, she giggled and averted her eyes. Fred lifted her chin with his hands and continued, "I mean it. You are really so amazing. I like how you get all shy like that whenever someone compliments you. I like how you get so-so fierce when you play Quidditch. I like the way you smile, the way you laugh."_

"_What are you getting at, Fred?" she whispered, waiting._

"_Angelina, would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"_

Merlin. Had he completely turned into a girl?

"Bloody hell," he squeaked, unable to move his feet as she walked toward him. She was right in front of him, leaving barely enough room for a piece of parchment to slide between them, and her smile was blinding him.

"Are you okay?" Angelina said, grinning as if she knew she had just struck him speechless.

Fred cleared his throat and composed himself. He had a date with the most perfect girl the world had ever been blessed with. He was not going to mess it up by making an utter fool of himself. Without another worried thought, Fred wiped the panicked expression off his face and replaced it with the jovial, playful one that everyone at Hogwarts was so used to.

"I'm great," he replied, flashing her a charming smile. She linked arms with him, leaning on him very slightly. He didn't know that she did it because her knees had gone weak.

"Shall we go down, then?" she suggested.

"Of course," he said, and with a sudden swell of courage that reminded him that he did indeed belong in this House, Fred removed his arm from hers and instead, took her hand, entwining his fingers in hers. Both their hearts leapt.

"What is this, Fred?" she said feigning shock. "Holding hands? Is Fred Weasley going soft?"

He cracked a smile. "Never." And to prove it, he pulled out his wand and sent a tiny ball of sparks flying at Ron's bottom. His brother jumped about a thousand miles and he turned around to give Fred a dirty look, rubbing his bottom. Fred and Angelina, however, really could not care less, for they were doubled over in laughter.

"Oh, you two," said George from behind them, his eyes twinkling. Fred stopped laughing almost immediately and gave his twin a warning glare. "You better hurry up or you'll be the only ones left in the Tower. Unless that's what you want…"

George ducked out of the way of his brother's spell and ran out of the portrait hole, laughing and dragging Alicia Spinnet, who mouthed, "Sorry!" at the two of them, with him.

"Ignore him," Fred said quickly. He didn't want her to start questioning him; he wanted the moment when he confessed his feelings to be a perfect one. "Let's get down to the ball."

_After the ball, Fred and Angelina had come up to the Gryffindor Common Room, exhausted from dancing and the amount of fun they'd had together. Laughing, they settled onto the couch, allowing their fingers to mingle together._

"_Did I tell you how great you looked tonight?" said Fred, looking down at her once more._

"_No, as a matter of fact, you did not."_

"_I apologize, Angelina. You look positively ravishing."_

_Angelina giggled and leaned her head onto her friend's shoulder. He suddenly grew serious._

"_Angelina—" He broke off._

"_Yeah?"_

"_It's-it's just that I really wanted to tell you something all night." Beneath his rumbled robes, Fred could feel his heart pounding wildly._

"_Okay?"_

"_I-I really like you, Ange."_

"_You like me?" She looked up at him, surprised, and nearly rendered him unable to breathe._

"_Yeah, yeah I do," he finally forced out. "I like you a lot."_

"_That's…really good."_

"_Angelina, will you be my girlfriend?"_

He had no idea what was wrong with him.

* * *

After they had wreaked enough havoc with their hazardous dancing, Fred and Angelina had settled into a spot against the back wall of the brightly lit, nearly sparkling hall. Unfortunately, all the tables had been filled up, so they had chosen a vacant corner overlooking the dance floor where they could both lean comfortably against the wall and be able to look at each other.

"So let me ask you something," said Angelina. Fred raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Did you know I'd be wearing gold accessories?"

"What? No," said Fred.

"That's what I thought," she said, chortling slightly.

"What's that all about?" he asked, befuddled.

"Oh, nothing," she said, shrugging. "Just, Alicia was telling me in the bathroom that you'd matched your tie with my shawl on purpose."

"Ah, I see," said Fred. He hadn't done so, but knowing that they matched gave him odd, girlish butterflies in his stomach. "So, let me ask _you_ something."

"Yeah?"

"Do you always talk about me with your friends in the bathroom?" he asked with a teasing smile.

Angelina laughed, though she could tell he was partly serious. On another day she would have merely swatted him and continued with the conversation casually, but a surge of Gryffindor courage possessed her to look him directly in his beautiful, swoon-worthy eyes, and say, "Every time, Fred Weasley."

His heart stopped. Looking into her face, he felt incredibly close to her, and the desire to lean forward and snog the hell out of her nearly overcame him. Instead, he leaned back and cleared his throat, flashing her a grin.

"Yeah?" he said, raising his eyebrows cockily.

He didn't notice Angelina let out a breath she had been holding, hoping that he'd kiss her in that tension-filled moment. Giggling, she smacked him over the head with her hand.

"Don't let it go to your head," she warned him. "We're girls. We gossip about everyone." It was the truth, but not the whole truth. Lately, Fred had been the primary topic of most of Angelina's gossip conversations.

"Yeah, sure, sure," he said. "So what do you say about me?" He tried to sound as cool about it as possible, but in all honesty, he was absolutely dying to know.

"Oh, you know, just…just stuff," Angelina mumbled. Shyly, she tucked a strand of curled, black hair behind her ear.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"What?"

"Leave it," he murmured quietly, reaching behind her ear to pull the hair out and let it fall loosely in front of her face. "You look good that way."

Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed up into his handsome face. "I-I do?"

"Yeah," he said, grinning. "You're quite the looker, Ange."

She smacked him across the chest and groaned. "You know I hate being called that!"

Laughing, he clutched his chest in mock hurt. "You have wounded me, Angelina. I'll never recover! The scars from your blow will haunt you for the rest of your life!"

Chuckling with him, she raised her hand to smack him again, but this time he caught and held it against his chest. And suddenly it hit him.

He'd been looking for a tender, emotional way to tell her his feelings, just as he had been to ask her to the ball. But what had worked in the end was the Gryffindor approach: calm, easy, and slightly cocky.

Fred took a step forward and placed his other hand on the wall behind Angelina next to her face. Her expression turned from an amused one to a serious one, full of excited anticipation. She was more aware of the wall behind her than she had been all night. When he released her hand, it remained on his chest, fingers tingling slightly. With his now free hand, he cupped her face, stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Fred," she whispered, her lips curling into a star struck smile.

"Yeah?" he said, leaning in.

She could do no more than murmur his name again.

"Are you really trying to tell me something, Angelina? Or are you just begging me to kiss you?" he murmured, his eyes closing as he allowed his forehead to rest against hers.

Angelina grinned broadly, completely taken by his Gryffindor charm. His goal was to send shivers up her spine and make her stomach flutter, and though he had succeeded, she was Angelina Johnson. She wasn't some girl who fluttered her eyelids at Fred Weasley's allure and fell right into his arms every time he called. She, too, was a Gryffindor, and she, too, was irresistible.

"I'd never beg, Fred," she said quietly, teasingly, and his eyes flew open.

"Oh, yeah?" he challenged, smiling coyly at her.

"Of course not. I don't beg for things I want."

"Oh, you don't?" Fred dropped his hand from her face to her waist and ran his fingertips up and down her side, causing her to shudder. He didn't let her see that his heart had jumped into his throat upon hearing that she wanted him.

She didn't lose her cool. "Fred, you've known me six years. You should know by now that if I want something, I take it." And with that, she slid her hand in his hair and finally pulled his lips onto hers.

The kiss was sweet, gentle. It was the kiss of two friends who were experiencing new feelings for the first time, together.

Laughing softly, they both pulled away.

"Damn," Fred murmured.

"What?" Angelina smiled flirtatiously at him.

He took a step closer, taking her waist with both hands and pressing her further into the wall with his entire body.

"That's the Angelina I fell for," he whispered, and then he was kissing her again, only this time it was a forceful one, full of fire and intensity. One of her hands was completely tangled in his hair, and the other was reaching into his robes and clutching his waist tightly. Fred's hands had found their way down to her hips, and suddenly they were one body, one entity, moving together—

"Oi!"

They broke apart, gasping for air, glaring at the person who had interrupted them. Before them stood George, grinning widely.

"So you finally let the little secret out, did you?" he teased his twin.

"Shut up," said Fred.

"Well, you better go somewhere else," said George, eyeing the teachers scattered throughout the hall. "Snape's not in a very good mood, and I'm sure he'd love nothing more than to give you two a detention for kissing in public."

"Or they can just stop kissing," Alicia pointed out.

"Oh, Alicia," said George in mock exasperation. "Whenever will you learn? Now that these two animals have been released, it'll take some bloody divine forces to pull them off each other." He ran away laughing as Fred whipped out his wand and threw hex after hex his way.

"Hey, hey!" said Angelina, pulling Fred's attention back to her. "Don't get upset."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because," she said, snaking her arms around his neck and pulling his face close to hers, "what he said is true, isn't it?"

She was so damn perfect. Fred grinned and grabbed her hand, making his way out of the hall and up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower.

"Couldn't be truer."

* * *

**A/N:** I hope you liked it! I do plan to write the story I originally had in mind, but definitely not until I've written a few more Fred/Angelina and George/Angelina ones to learn some possibilities that their relationship could create. If any of you know any good stories that could help me out, your own or somebody else's, or if you have good ideas, please leave them and all your other thoughts in the reviews!

~Maya


	2. Quidditch

**A/N:** I decided to make this a longer story, composed mostly of short shots featuring moments in Fred and Angelina's relationship. I'm definitely going to extend it further into how they grow, and then explore the tragedy of Fred's death and how she becomes close to George. However, it will take time, but I won't leave any cliffhangers that will require waiting. :)

I really like the title of this, so the chapters will have the theme of "being a Gryffindor," and it will sometimes be subtle and sometimes be prominent.

Please leave me your thoughts! If you have any suggestions on anything I should add or fix, I'd love to hear them. I read and respond to all of my reviews, and I really appreciate every single one.

~Maya

* * *

**The Gryffindor Way**

**Quidditch**

"Oi, Angelina!"

The Quidditch Captain slammed her locker door shut and turned to face her boyfriend. Fred Weasley was holding a large box, wearing a bright smile, and traipsing toward her.

"Fancy a sweet?" he said innocently, putting the box down.

She shot him a dark look; she knew exactly what the "sweets" in the box were, and all the house elves in the world would be begging to be set free before Angelina would want to even touch one.

Fred laughed. "Come on," he teased. "Would I ever give my girlfriend anything that would hurt her?"

"You bloody well would, and you know it," she said, smiling in spite of herself.

"I am insulted," said Fred, drawing himself up.

"As you should be." George strolled into the locker room as well, clearly oblivious to the fact that he was alone with the couple.

Although Angelina glared at him pointedly, Fred seemed just as clueless.

"Isn't it so, brother?" he said indignantly. "It hurts my pride."

"That's how it always is with a woman," said George wisely. "But, alas, we need them so."

"Shut up!" laughed Angelina, throwing her shoe at George, who ducked.

"See?" he said seriously. "A perfect example. Such a brash show of violence, yet she is still wholly irresistible."

She rolled her eyes, lacing up the shoe she'd snatched back from George. Neither she nor her boyfriend noticed the lingering look of longing on George's face.

"Flirting with your brother's girlfriend, George?" said Alicia Spinnet, who had just appeared in the doorway. "I'd be surprised, but as you two share everything…"

"HEY!" the three of them chorused.

"I'm not gonna share my girlfriend," cried Fred.

"_I'm_ not gonna be shared!" Angelina said.

"It was a joke, Alicia," said George. "Which, coincidentally, is something we often do share."

"Speaking of which, we've got to go share one right about now," said Fred, checking his watch.

"Fred, we have a match in half an hour!" Angelina cried.

"Oh, don't worry about that," said George, waggling his eyebrows mischievously. "We're going to do both."

Shocked, she stared at both of them. "If you're going to risk anything in the match…" she began threateningly.

"Relax, Angie," said Fred, slinking his arm around her waist.

She smacked him across the chest. "I hate being called that," she grumbled.

Laughing, Fred squeezed her briefly, but tightly to him. "Sorry," he murmured, brushing his lips over her hair.

"Ew. I think I'm going to go change, now," said Alicia, looking disgusted as she walked past the couple.

"Hurry up, Fred," George warned. "The prank's not going to play itself, you know."

Fred nodded and waved his brother along, and, though he hesitated, George obliged him.

"And now we're alone," said Fred huskily.

Angelina's breath caught in her throat as he ran his hands up and down her sides until finally they came to a rest on her lower back. He leaned in with a breathtaking grin and kissed her. Instantly, a fiery lion roared in ecstasy inside her as her hands flew into his red hair, tangling into it and pulling gently. Moaning lowly, Fred pushed her back against the lockers and pressed himself to her, relishing in the feel of her muscular body against his.

She pulled away and smiled teasingly up at him, cocking an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get me out of my Quidditch uniform right before a match?"

"If you'd been any other girl," he chuckled. "But I wouldn't dream of compromising Angelina Johnson's Quidditch match."

"It's your match too, you know," she reminded him.

"Yes, I know. Speaking of which," he said brightly. "I've got to get down to the Pitch and help George out. I don't know how he's getting along without me. Merlin knows I'm the brains of our duo."

She laughed, pulled him in for one last, quick kiss, and then let him hurry away from her.

* * *

The team stepped out onto the field, and Angelina couldn't help but smile in amusement. All the stands now bore red and gold decorations, and the area in which the Slytherins sat was overcast with clouds that rained red and gold ribbons. The Slytherin students who were now filing into the stands were crying out in frustration, whipping out their wands and trying to magic away the ostentatious Gryffindor prank.

Although Madam Hooch, stalking proudly onto the Pitch, instantly turned the stands back to normal with a brisk wave of her wand, most of the students had already seen the spectacle, and many were shouting about it gleefully.

Angelina laughed openly, her downtrodden spirits about that horrible Umbridge woman, Ron's worrying Quidditch skills, and the looming N.E.W.T.s soaring as she was about to.

Beside her, Fred winked. He squeezed her hand quickly before mounting his broom, and muttered, "Let's kill Slytherin."

* * *

There was a loud tapping at her dormitory window, and Angelina moaned in her sleep, irritated at whoever was so determined on waking her up. When the tapping refused to cease, she groggily opened her eyes and saw the red hair on top of a frantic face, hovering by her window on a broom. Quickly, she scrambled out of bed, casting frantic looks around the dormitory to make sure her fellow seventh year Gryffindor girls had not woken up to her stupid boyfriend's antic. Sliding the window open, Angelina helped pull him inside.

"Where did you get that broom?" she demanded in a whisper. That Umbridge cow had confiscated his; she knew because she hadn't been able to stop thinking about the incident all day.

"Borrowed it from Ron," Fred said hastily. Something about the way he refused to meet her eye told her that he was using the word 'borrowed' loosely. He set the Cleansweep down and leaned in to kiss his girlfriend, but she turned away and sat back down on her bed.

Fred watched her in angst and said, "Come on, Angelina. I'm sorry. I said I was sorry."

"It doesn't matter, Fred," she said, looking up into his sorrowful eyes angrily. "Your apology isn't going to change anything. And anyway, you're not sorry. Even though you didn't do anything, we both know you would've. And you're not at all sorry."

He sighed; he could try to deny it, but he knew it was true. "I am sorry I upset you, though," he said.

"That's not enough, Fred," she insisted.

In despair, he beseeched her, "Please, Angelina. I-I can't tell you I'm sorry for what happened on the Pitch today, because I'm not. That Malfoy toad deserved it." Fred's jaw tightened as he thought back to the git's words that were ringing explosively in his head.

The image of the pale-faced boy's irritating smirk swam before her eyes and then melted away, leaving the real red-haired boy's desperate, pleading expression. Her boyfriend had been a real moron and they had all suffered horrible consequences for it. By trying to attack that Malfoy boy, he'd thrown all logic and reason out the window, risked more than anyone had realized. All to defend his family. Looking into the face she so loved now, she realized that he wouldn't be Fred if he apologized for it. He wouldn't be Fred if he hadn't beaten that brat to a pulp in the first place, which he would have done joyously had the team let him. He was a Gryffindor and a Weasley through and through, and Angelina couldn't have asked for anything else.

Finally, her face broke out in a grudging smile, and she reached out for his hand. Looking taken aback, but grateful nonetheless, Fred took it and sat next to her, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Look," she began quietly, "I-I guess I understand, Fred. And if I wasn't Quidditch Captain, if I didn't need you on the team, I'd be—I dunno—_proud_ of you, I guess. And of George and Harry. I'm just-just gonna need a little time. Like, to get past it."

Fred grinned his classic grin, but Angelina knew she saw a hint of intense relief behind it. "Thanks, Angie," he said.

She smacked him across the chest. "_Don't_ call me that."

Laughing, Fred wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Her fingers explored his shaggy red hair as his hands stroked the smooth skin of her lower back where her top had ridden up.

"I love you, Angelina," he whispered.

Angelina froze. This was the first time he'd said anything that even hinted at a commitment, and she didn't know if she was ready for it.

Pulling back, she looked uncertainly into his eyes and said, "What?"

His hands fell away, and he tucked them into his pockets before shrugging uncomfortably. Clearly, that had not gone the way he'd hoped. "Yeah," he said tersely. "You heard me. I love you."

"Wh-what?" she repeated. "Why-why now? I mean, why are you telling me? Like, why do you—yeah?"

Again, the confident, blustering Fred served as a cover for his vulnerable side, which was very obvious to her, though he may not have known it.

"Angelina," he said, "I love you because you get me. You always know what's going through my head. And I really get you too. I love you because you're brilliant, you're sassy, and you know how to stand up for yourself. I love you because you're bloody sexy on a broom. You make me laugh, and you're always the one who laughs the hardest at our jokes. At _my_ jokes. You are…the most amazing girl—woman I've ever known. So yeah, I love you."

Thanking Merlin for her dark complexion that hid her blush so well, Angelina let out a little laugh. "Wow, Fred," she said, eyeing him appreciatively. "I'm impressed. I didn't know a jokester like you had the ability to use romantic words."

Eyes twinkling, Fred grinned. "Don't get too used to it."

Again, she laughed, and then pressed her lips to his firmly. "I love you too, Fred," she whispered.

And though he didn't say anything more, she could feel the intensity and passion in his touch, in his kiss, and she saw it in his eyes when he pulled away and smiled at her. For a moment, they let the silence hold them gently.

"So," she said, smirking teasingly, "Sexy on a broom, am I?"

Grinning broadly, Fred leaned in close to her and whispered, "So damn sexy."

As she tried to catch her breath, she murmured, "How about a broom ride right now?"

Allowing one hand to rest tantalizingly on her hip, Fred fingered the Cleansweep handle. "I think we could make that work," he said. "I've always fancied a broom ride on the grounds, after hours, with the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts, under that toad's nose."

Giggling, Angelina pulled back abruptly. "Thank God you mentioned her. It was all getting a bit uncharacteristically romantic."

Fred grimaced. "Yeah, well she's a big part of what's on my mind right now."

She couldn't help but agree. That horrible woman had singlehandedly snatched away the only joy left at Hogwarts from her and her teammates. Flying around the grounds after hours with one of the people who weren't supposed to have a broom sounded like perfect, quiet revenge.

With a coy smile, Angelina took Fred's hand and pulled him onto the broom with her. His hands slipped around her waist and held tightly, and his hot, excited breath tickled her ear. This was the first time she'd gotten on a broom with someone else and definitely the first time she'd done so without Quidditch uniforms, and she could feel Fred's remarkably well-muscled chest against her back through the thin fabric of their clothes.

"If we get caught, we'll get into loads of trouble," Fred murmured in her ear.

"Then we won't get caught," she shot back, smiling widely.

Fred chuckled lowly. "I knew I could only ever love a troublemaker."

And they flew out into the night sky.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope you liked that!

Again, please review:)

~Maya


	3. Confession

**A/N:** Hi everyone! I thought it was about time I introduced George in a more prominent role. This chapter (only) is also written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.

Prompts:

1. Radio  
12. "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view - until you climb into his skin and walk around in it." - To Kill A Mockingbird, Harper Lee  
15. Dialogue: "I'm up to my eyes!"

Please enjoy!

~Maya

* * *

**The Gryffindor Way**

Confession

George Weasley's nose was in a book, his wand pointing and twiddling at a radio box in front of him. He didn't seem to realize that his action was making the Weird Sisters sing louder and louder by the moment.

This state of aloneness was vaguely strange for George; he was almost always found with either his brother Fred, his friend Lee Jordan, or both. Today, unfortunately, Lee was occupied by a class that was inconveniently scheduled during Fred's and George's free period, and Fred was occupied by Angelina Johnson. In fact, he was occupied by her not twenty feet from George on the comfy sofa in the Gryffindor common room.

He could hear their sickeningly lovey-dovey chatter between their kisses. It had been a few months since Fred and Angelina had become a couple, and they couldn't have been happier. They were always holding hands in the corridor, sharing food and kisses in the Great Hall, laughing and pranking Slytherins together. George was noticing a subtle change in his brother that only he, as Fred's twin, would be able to see.

Fred's smile seemed brighter, his laugh was more open and carefree. He was flying better and practicing his spells (the ones they would need for their joke shop, of course) harder. George had even caught him whistling in the shower once or twice.

It was for this change and this change only that George put a genuine smile on his face every day he saw his brother and Angelina together. Next to Fred's happiness, George's hurt seemed tiny and insignificant. Every time he looked at them, he found himself longing to be in his brother's place, wishing that he could hold Angelina's hand and kiss her beautiful, chocolate skin. She was wonderful and perfect, but she wasn't his.

They were laughing again, apparently at something Angelina had said.

"Merlin, you're hilarious!" cried Fred, kissing her fondly. "That's definitely why I love you." The radio grew louder.

"Shut up," she giggled, smacking him across the chest. "You know that was a terrible joke."

"Come on, Angelina," Fred protested. "Do you even know me? You know I never laugh at an un-funny joke."

"Fred Weasley, you'll laugh at anything that presents itself as a joke, funny or not," she said.

Fred pouted. "You wound me."

Angelina laughed and kissed him. The radio grew even louder.

George thanked the stars above that their voices were beginning to get muffled over the increasing volume of Celestina Warbeck (yes, he would rather listen to her than the couple's flirting).

Suddenly, with a deafening blast, the radio box exploded, sending shards of plastic flying through the air.

"Oi!" yelled Fred, looking over in alarm. "What the bloody hell was that?"

"Sorry," George mumbled, offering an apologetic smile. "Accident."

Averting his eyes, he stood abruptly and headed towards his dormitory. With a sinking feeling, he heard Fred say to Angelina, "I'd better see what's up." It would be excruciatingly difficult to keep his feelings pinned down at this moment, but George would do it. He would have to, for the sake of two people he loved dearly.

"What's going on George?" Fred demanded, shutting the door behind him.

With his back to him, George took a deep breath and prepared the lie he would brightly tell through his teeth. Then, he calmly turned around, looked his brother in the eyes, and said, "I'minlovewithAngelina."

Fred's mouth dropped open, and his eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. "Wh-what?"

"I'm in love with Angelina, Fred!" George shouted, giving up completely. "I'm crazy about her. I don't reckon I have to tell you why, 'cause it's probably for the same reasons you are."

"You—you're in love with her?" Fred repeated blankly.

"Bloody hell, _yes_! And I'm up to my eyes in your constant icky flirting with her!" he yelled, seizing his own hair and pulling in frustration.

"Merlin, mate," said Fred, shocked. "I didn't…I didn't know."

With a slight groan, George fell back onto his bed and shut his eyes. "Well, now you do," he muttered.

Fred was silent for several moments. Then, so quietly that George wasn't sure if he even actually said it, he whispered, "I'm sorry." The door to the dormitory shut softly as Fred left, and George was alone.

Before he went back to the common room to be with his girlfriend, Fred stood still outside the door for a moment. Never would he have thought that his brother would fancy the same girl he fancied, much less love her. But there it had been, love, plain as day, in George's eyes.

Sadness gripped him briefly, sadness for his great, amazing brother, whose love for Angelina Johnson would never be requited. Of this, Fred was certain, because he fully intended to marry the girl who was waiting outside for him. After a few days, he would ask George if he wanted him to stop seeing Angelina, and if George said yes, he would do so. For the time being, Fred was confident that he would have George's blessing.

But, he reminded himself as he made his way down to the common room, he hadn't expected George's feelings in the slightest. There could just as easily be more that he wouldn't be able to anticipate. Twins though they were, Fred and George were two very separate individuals in heart and mind, and Fred was faced with the realization that You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view - until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.

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**A/N:** I didn't want it to be too sad, and it's not to me, but for some of you it might be. Let me know how you felt about it, and what I should do next! Also, I said before that the chapters will have a general "Gryffindor" theme to them, but I didn't underline that theme plainly here on purpose - I don't want you to think I forgot about it!

~Maya


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